Dharavi Photos: Colours of Ramzan

- by Deepa Krishnan

Aishwarya and I went to Dharavi today, to meet some women who make papads. It was around 4:00 p.m., when we walked through one of the main bazaar areas. The street stalls were just beginning to be set up, with food for the evening iftar.

I could not believe the colour of the falooda packets that I saw - a pink so lurid that it would put all other pinks to shame :)

Amidst the lurid pink, were reds, oranges, yellows and greys

Foreground: Yellow Papayas

Behind: The falooda-man making take-home packets

The faloodas are really popular, so the vendor spends the afternoon tying them into little packets. In the evening, when the crowds assemble, he will have no time to do anything but hand over the packets (and count money)! Every few minutes, burkha-clad women would walk by and buy some to take home.

After the electric colours, the pale greens and muted yellows of the melons were very calming.

Just looking at these soft shades makes you feel cooler

Pineapples had been neatly peeled and the prickly bits had been taken out.

Pale yellow with dark green tops

Pomegranates add an exotic dash of maroon-pink to the fruits on sale. A mix of these fruits, sprinkled with chaat powder, will make a tangy, sweet way to break the fast.

Teen ka kitna? Lady in burkha taking three pomegranates home.

To add volume at low cost, bananas are added to the fruit chaat.

Ripe yellow with only vestiges of green

As if all this wasn't enough, watermelons and apples provide more colour!

There were lots of food stalls too, just beginning to be set up. The onion pakodas and kala-chana chaat counters were in place.

Adding orange and brown to the color-mix!

Usually the kala chana chaat is decorated with sliced tomatoes, and garnished with green coriander and lemon, but because it was early in the day, the presentation wasn't fully ready. But you can imagine it, can't you? :)

I saw people at little restaurants hard at work, setting up great big handis of mutton biryani, with coloured rice. At some counters, jalebis were being fried and dunked in sugar syrup. I couldn't see any of the famous kababs or indeed, any meat on hot griddles (tawas)...perhaps the griddles would only come later around sundown.

The chicken shops and meat shops were doing brisk business. This butcher stopped his thaka-thak-thwack for a little while to give me a smile.

Impressive heavy knife, making dull sounds on wooden meat counter. (Little bits of gristle would fly every time the knife came down. Not good for my vegetarian soul!)

These little boys had set up neem datoon stall.

Chewing the twigs releases chemicals in the plant that can kill bacteria and reduce the build up of plaque on the teeth. The neem datoon counters also sold lemons. I liked the contrast between the two colours, but couldn't understand why all the datoon stalls also sold lemons. Do you know? Is it because neem is bitter?

Meswak or Siwak is also used for cleaning teeth

(and tastes much, much nicer than neem!)

After the walk through the bazaar, we met some women, who were papad makers, to find out more about their life (material for another post perhaps!). By the time we finished chatting, another couple of hours had passed. We walked back through inside lanes to where the car was parked.

Because we came through residential twisting lanes, I didn't realize how much the bazaar area would transform in a couple of hours.

The crowd was incredible.

Our car in a sea of humanity

We inched further ahead, and found that the road was impossibly jammed with people. A handcart trundled to our left, piled high with suitcases (manufactured in Dharavi). As far as eye could see, the road was full of people.

We decided to stoically inch further ahead

By this time, I was standing with my entire torso outside the Innova, photographing the road :) It was quite an experience, actually, watching the crowd stream past, all intent on reaching home in time for prayer.

"Press walon ki gaadi hai" was the murmur in the crowd

(it's my new DSLR camera - everyone thinks I'm a professional! Whereas I can only point and click!).

After about 20 minutes of going through the dense crowd, we finally came out on the main road. I would have liked to get down and photograph the evening iftar meal. But it would have meant waiting for at least another 45 minutes. We were tired, it had been a long day already and I simply wasn't ready to jostle for photos. Besides, I had really enjoyed watching the lead up to the evening meal, and the ability to photograph all the vendors when they weren't going crazy dealing with the iftar rush.

I'm glad I could bring back these photos and post them. Hope you enjoyed them!

Schmoozing, Indian-style

By Deepa Krishnan

The media today is full of the anti-corruption / Lokpal bill protests around the country. Some folks are pro-Lokpal, some are anti, but almost everyone agrees that corruption is really a huge issue and needs to be dealt with.

I think it's useful to look at this corruption issue from a historical and cultural perspective.

Humans have always given presents and sweeteners as a way to establish good relations, improve trading ties and smoothen their way. The first tribe that came out of a cave probably received presents of meat from visitors who wanted a place by the fire.

Certainly from the time of recorded history, every historical account of landings in a new place, or setting up of trading starts with little presents. Thomas Roe presented a book of European maps to Jehangir. The Jewish arrivals on the Malabar Coast presented gifts to the Cochin king. This is routinely the case at the courts of kings and emperors; from the durban at the door to government officials, everyone is part of the sweetening process.

Thomas Roe at the court of Emperor Jehangir

We should really first admit that this kind of dealing is part of the normal human way of life. Sweetening is done in many ways, you go with presents, you send boxes of mithai at the next Diwali, you return favours and contacts, and you eat and socialise together to make sure the relationship is reinforced. This is the way work gets done among human beings. We schmooze. We relate. We give and we take.

Shop selling fancy Mithai boxes for Diwali gifts

To expect that people will come out of thousands of years of a way of life/way of work and suddenly stop this way of influencing things is just very impractical. It may be "morally correct" but it is not practical. Those who can influence will always do so, whether it is by money or contacts or through ideas and words. I think taking the high moral ground on this is very much like many other moral stances that we love to take - totally impractical and completely blind to historical reality, or any understanding of what the average human being is all about.

When I look around me historically as well in the present day, I find that everyone in India understands the concept of influencing and schmoozing very well. After all, it is very much a part of our social culture and tradition!! What varies is the extent and style with which it is done. The current brouhaha is only because people simply are boggled by the SCALE at which it is being reported. Therefore we are seeing a feeling of outrage among people.

So what is the practical solution?

Before we attempt a solution, we need to understand that humans WILL try to influence, whether by social means or by money. So we CANNOT end that. But the line between baksheesh (tip), the traditional way of rewarding work, and ghoos (bribe) does exist, although it is very thin. So how do we ensure that this thin line is maintained?

I am inclined to think that the answer lies in the Indian legal system. All organizations have rules about what constitutes a gift and what constitutes a bribe. In large corporations this is called "a material amount" i.e. the amount above which you cannot accept gifts. In government also, this rule exists. So what we need really, is to tighten the EXISTING legal system to work faster, to allow reporting and punishment when someone crosses these rules. THE ABSENCE OF AN EFFECTIVE LEGAL SYSTEM IS THE ROOT CAUSE OF CORRUPTION IN INDIA.

There was a McKinsey report regarding this some years ago. The facts of that report were staggering. With the additional hiring of judges and setting up of speedy courts, the benefits to the nation were mind-boggling in terms of just economics.

I for one would like to see that report again, and look for solutions within that. Setting up a new Lokpal doesn't seem like a solution to me. My fear is that it will set up a new authority that goes against the basic principles of checks and balances enshrined in the constitution. What we need to do is make our current checks and balances system to work well. That is what we need to debate.

It is good that we have an Anna Hazare to raise the consciousness of people, and the current media-hype and circus around it is a necessary evil to increase awareness of the issue. But the stupidity of the situation is that this will lead only to Congress downfall, and not any long-lasting change in the historical way in which we Indians operate.

Narali Purnima in Mumbai - fun with coconuts!

by Deepa Krishnan

I was walking along Bhaji Gully yesterday when I saw a crowd at a coconut shop.

It was Narali Purnima yesterday, the day that marks the beginning of the new fishing season. The fisherfolk offer coconuts to the sea, and pray for safety and a good catch (this year with the oil spills along the coast, they're going to need those prayers!)

Crowd at the coconut shop

What I didn't know is that the guys play a coconut breaking game on Narali Purnima. I chanced upon it suddenly, so it added a real dose of fun to the day!

Basically the game consists of two players, each buys a coconut from the shop, and then they try to break each other's coconut. The tougher nut wins :) :)

Stack of coconuts for sale, game in progress. Mr. Orange T-shirt gives it a go!

There is of course, a science behind the coconut selection. Too big, and the coconut will crack. Too small, and it won't be allowed in the game. Each player gets one turn to hit, and one turn to submit their coconut for hitting.

Give as good as you get

Sometimes, there's only a tiny crack on impact, and sweet coconut water comes spilling out. I saw the guys drinking the water by simply holding the coconut up over their mouths and letting the sweet water rush in. I wanted to go ask for some!

The coconut crack'd, nectar flowing!

Sometimes of course, the coconut totally shatters on impact, leaving a very pleased winner.

Smashed!

I had never seen this festival celebrated this way before - have you? There was a lot of shouting and glee all through the thing; a bunch of guys having a total blast. I had fun photographing it!!

Portrait of a Mumbai courier boy

- By Deepa Krishnan

I met this courier boy outside our apartment complex a couple of Sundays ago. He was sensibly dressed for the rainy season - shorts instead of long trousers, water-proof bag, documents covered in plastic. It was 9:00 a.m. and his day was just beginning.

I said to him, "I just bought a new camera, I'm learning to use it. Can I click your photo?" He nodded and said ok, and he posed for me on his bike. He had an infectious, almost cheeky smile. In fact, he came across as a very confident kid.

Nine am, quiet Sunday morning in Sion

He was wearing a T-shirt that said 'Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere'. It brought a grin to my face.

Confident look and cheeky T-shirt.

I showed him the photo in the camera viewer, and his smile widened. Since I'd just bought the camera, he asked me "What does this camera cost?".

I spread five fingers of my hand and said "Fifty thousand". He made an expressive "Oh boy" gesture, half grimace, half-grin, and I suddenly felt the sharp divide between our lives. I knew he thought I was super-rich. I suppose I'd react similarly if I went to that crazy Ambani house on Altamount Road.

I wanted to say something to the boy. Should I say "I didn't start out rich. I've worked damn hard for this"? That seemed too much like a guilt-assuaging trip :) Or should I say "If you study and work hard you can get there too"? That seemed like too much of a lecture to give to a stranger. But everything else seemed inadequate. So in the end I smiled and said "Yes, it's really expensive, no? I got free vouchers at the Croma store, that's how I bought it". The explanation eased things a bit...anyway, he said bye and zoomed off on his delivery round.

I thought to myself, just another day in Bombay, where multiple worlds collide. The differences are there, staring us in the face. We can't wish it away; all we can do is handle it as gently as possible.

An ode to Misal Pav

- by Deepa Krishnan

I don't understand why more people don't write or talk about misal-pav. It is, in my view, the city's tastiest Maharashtrian breakfast dish, spicy, tangy, low on oil and fantastic value for money.

Misal at Prakash in Dadar

Misal-pav opposite the Municipal Building at VT

Last Sunday, I photographed a plate of misal-pav (with my new camera!) at VT. It was being sold at a little nondescript hole-in-the-wall place that also sells pen refills and chocolates and aspirin. It was nine thirty on a Sunday morning, and the shop had a steady stream of people asking for misal pav.

Pav of course, is the bread. So what's misal?

The word misal means mixture, similar to the word mishran in Hindi. A lot of things go into the misal, and there is quite a bit of flexibility in how you put it together. Indeed, many Maharashtrians will tell you that nothing can beat a Kolhapuri misal, one of the spicier versions of this dish. There is the less spicy Puneri misal, the Nashikchi misal, and so on, with each local shop offering it's own personalised jhatka :) :) to the taste.

No matter what the variant, in general, a misal will have something called "usal" as its base, this is a dish cooked with safed vatana (dried white peas), matki (sprouted 'moth' bean) and chawli (black-eyed beans). Matki is the most popular, but all three are used, sometimes all together. The generic Marathi term for these ingredients is kad-dhaanya, an all-inclusive sort of word that encompasses sprouts and grains. A large variety of kad-dhanya are sold in every Maharashtrian locality in Mumbai.

Kad-dhanya shop on Ranade Road in Dadar West, outside the Pethe jewellery shop. Everything is pre-sprouted and ready to cook, a blessing for the Mumbaikar

The key to a good usal is an eye-watering mouth-tingling spiciness, which is set off wonderfully by the pav. The spiciness comes from the unique masala.

A lot of people haven't heard of "Goda Masala", the Maharashtrian version of garam masala that goes into a traditional usal. It is a complex masala, totally unique, and packs quite a few surprises. For example, who would have thought a masala could have dried lichen (you know, the mossy stuff that grows on tree bark)? Amazing, no? The Western Ghats of Maharashtra are very bio-diverse, and they have a rich collection of lichens. So that probably explains how lichen ended up in this dish! I wonder who collects it - do they just scrape it off?!! :) :) I would highly recommend reading this wonderful account of Goda Masala by A Mad Tea Party. Great photos!

In my grandmother's home, we had masala-women, tribal migrants who came from the villages each year and pounded masalas in stone or iron mortars with huge wooden pestles. These days, the masala-women are no longer to be seen. Fortunately, you can buy goda masala in shops, like this one near Dadar station:

Walking into Family Stores in Dadar is an education in Maharashtrian specialty cuisine. Especially around festival days.

If you want to try making usal at home, you could skip the complicated stuff and just buy ready-made usal-misal masala, like this one from Kapol. There are lots of other brands as well.

The Kapol site also offers a simple recipe for how to use this masala

Once the usal is ready, you serve it piping hot with garnish. The garnish is usually a layer of shev (farsan), topped by onions, a wedge of lemon, and fresh coriander (as you can see from the Kapol photo above).

I've seen several different recipes for usal; some that only involve a tomato based gravy, but also some that involve tamarind. If you search online, you'll find lots of variants. If you understand Marathi, you'll thoroughly enjoy this cooking demo on Zee Marathi. The hosts of the show are TV stars; they are themselves having a whole lot of fun. The conversation is zesty and the recipe is easy. It substitutes garam masala for goda masala, so purists will wince :) but it is total dhamaal as we say here in Mumbai!!

We are like this only

In a Mumbai living room, doting grandparents, grand-aunts, grand-uncles, aunts and uncles gather around a little laptop screen. Everyone is smiling and saying incomprehensible things.

What's on the screen? Two tiny twins sitting at a laptop in Cinncinnati, lisping nonsense and winning hearts with every lisp. Welcome to the world of Skype in India.

"We are like this only".

Advantage, Omni!

- By Deepa Krishnan

The black-and-yellow Fiat Premier Padmini has long been the iconic taxicab of Mumbai.

But of late, many new taxi models have started to show up, smartly turned out in the mandatory black-and-yellow.

Among all the new models, though, it appears the Omni has one special advantage...

Superior leg room, made possible by sliding doors!!

Advantage, Omni! :) :) Move over, Fiat!

Of beads and happiness !

- By Deepa Krishnan

One of the nicest things about living in India is how you can get something custom-made so easily. Today I set out to repair a broken green necklace, and to create a new piece of red coral jewellery for myself.

This green necklace is one of my old favourites...but has been sitting inside my jewellery box for a while now because it broke while we were on a TV shoot.

Mercifully, I didn't lose too many of the beads. So I put all the broken bits away in a little box, waiting for the day when I would have some spare time.

Today, I finally found the time, and took the box to my local street-side jeweller, Mr. Raju Patwa.

The Patwas are a traditional group of craftsmen who work with beads. Although this man had not seen the original necklace - all I gave him were loose beads - he took one look at it and created something just as attractive as my old one. I sat on a little stool next to him, and watched him deftly put it together. At the end of 15 minutes, I had my necklace back, and a big smile on my face! The cost? Thirty rupees. I was very pleased because I used to wear this necklace very often, and I missed not having it.

My next project was more ambitious. I have this really lovely coral pendant set in silver. It used to be strung on a single red leather thong, but the thong broke. So I was stuck with the pendant, not knowing what to do with it.

This time, I wanted to string it on something slightly chunky looking. So Mr. Patwa and I spent 15 minutes looking at different beads and arranging / setting them in different combinations. After examining red, green, and silver beads, and tsking and tut-tutting our way through many wrong combinations :) we finally hit upon the idea of using tiny black beads, interspersed with asymmetric long coral beads.

Once we had agreed upon the basic idea, I left Mr. Patwa to think up the actual creative bit of how to make the idea come alive. I was to come back after an hour, to see what he had done, and then we'd figure out any further changes.

With an hour to kill, I wandered through the market with my mom and sis. We went to a specialty food store, stocked up on some favourite treats, bought fruits and vegetables, ate rawa dosa and had mosambi juice...and by the time I came back, there was a half-finished necklace waiting to be tried.

So then we went to the final stage: I tried it, we added some beads, removed some others, modified the length so it would be just right for me...and finally, I took it home. It had taken totally 1.5 hrs to get this necklace done. I paid Rs 300 for the coral, black beads, design and labour and thought it was well worth it to have something so personalised.

And then...(sigh)...the pleasure of wearing it (and knowing no one else has one just like it!).

My sis saw the necklace and said, I want to design one too! She has just today bought a silver pendant and ear-rings from SIA (where there is a massive sale going on), and we're going to make an expedition to Bhuleshwar to buy beads. Then we'll come back to Mr. Patwa to figure something out for her. I'm looking forward to the next creative session!

Dastangoi in Mumbai - wow!

- By Deepa Krishnan

Wow. It's not often you get to see a live performance that is this fantastic. To think I almost didn't go!

This is Dastangoi, the art of story-telling, that used to be popular among the Mughals. I went for a show a couple of weeks ago, at M C Ghia Hall in Kala Ghoda.

The Mughal Emperor Akbar loved Dastangoi performances, and encouraged them in his court. The art died later; so this is a revival of a lost form. But the show that I saw was different in some aspects.

For one thing, the original Dastans (tales) were usually told by a single guy. The Dastan I heard had two narrators; Danish and Mahmood. They took turns to tell the story to the audience; skillfully passing the baton back and forth. They also conversed with each other as part of the story, often enacting conversations between two different characters. Their timing was perfect. They were witty and the script was incredibly funny, so all through the performance, we were rolling with laughter. If you ask me, it was much better than having a single narrator. Here's a photo of Danish and Mahmood with mock-serious faces, saying the most satirical things. The audience was literally in splits. We were forbidden by the duo from clapping in appreciation, so all we could do was say wah-wah, wah-wah in traditional style, and collapse laughing.

The original Dastans were about djinns and magic and adventure and what not. Here's a scene from the most popular Dastan, the Epic of Amir Hamza. Amir Hamza is a larger-than-life hero who travels to strange places, fights demons, trades witty remarks and generally saves the day. No wonder Akbar loved him! I can imagine the entire Mughal court going ha-ha-ha, wah-wah, wah-wah, just as we did! Under Akbar's patronage, Dastangoi evolved into a popular form. This illustration was commissioned by Akbar, as part of the Hamzanama, a huge series of 1400 such drawings, illustrating all the adventures of Hamza. Look carefully and you will see a giant called Arghan Deo rising from the water bearing a gift for Hamza. I wonder what this particular fairytale was!

The tale that Danish and Mahmood told us was not of Amir Hamza. It had a very modern theme - it was about civil rights and sedition, inspired by the imprisonment of Dr. Binayak Sen, a health care worker and human rights activist. For those who don't know this story, it would be good to look up the Free Binayak Sen website. Dr. Sen and his wife Ilina Sen were among the audience (I was sitting at their feet; hence the unusual angle!)

Because the Dastangoi format requires a magical setting in a strange land, Danish and Mahmood invented a strange country, peopled by strange characters. But it was easy to recognize comparisons - there were the poor landless, there was an oppressive state and police, and a shoddy legal system. The story was told in satire form; the humour saved it from being a one hour moral sermon. It was powerful and appealing, and the audience responded with many wah-wahs both for the content as well as the presentation!

Earlier in the evening, both Dr. Sen and Illina addressed the audience on the issue of sedition laws and how they can be misused by the state. Dr. Sen is Vice President of PUCL (The Peoples Union for Civil Liberties), a 25-year old organisation formed primarily as a platform for the protection of civil liberties and human rights.

The audience for the speech represented Mumbai's educated elite (no surprises there) - social workers, writers, activists, lawyers, film makers and college students. People listened carefully when the Sens spoke, and clearly there was a sense of real concern among the audience about the issues that were discussed.

I went with my friend Pooja. Before the speeches, we made a little foray into Jehangir Art Gallery, where I bought a couple of paintings. This is me with the artist, Somnath Roy, who teaches at the Government College of Art and Craft, Calcutta. The paintings are now hanging on my wall at home.

Later that night, Pooja and I went to dinner at Chetana, where we had a Rajasthani and Gujarati thali and discussed the performance (we both loved it). I dropped her at Churchgate Station for her train, and returned home happy. All in all, a good evening, even if I did return significantly lighter in the pocket!

Gandhi Market

- By Janaki Krishnan

I welcome Saturday - a day I get to spend time with my two working daughters. We discuss children and maids, go out shopping, eat and unwind. Yesterday, we went to Gandhi Market in King's Circle - a market set up soon after India's independence to rehabilitate refugees from Sind and Punjab.

There are about 200 shops in the market. Initially it was just a cloth market catering to the lower middle class, but today the market offers everything - vegetables, leather goods, artificial jewellery, decorative hair clips and many other household items. It's definitely a woman-centered market!

Though the market is housed inside a single-storied concrete structure, the real fun and excitement begins long before you reach the gate. The entire footpath surrounding the market is a shopper's paradise. Small sellers selling readymade garments for kids, innerwear for ladies, napkins, towels, imitation jewellery, churidar sets, etc. line up on either side. Pushing through the crowd enjoying the multi-coloured dresses for children is itself a happy experience.

It is an open secret that bargaining starts at 50% of the price quoted by seller. In olden times this market catered mainly to the lower middle class. However, today Gandhi Market has grown in size and variety and also offers quality stuff. Very intricately embriodered designer sarees suitable for bridal wear are sold.

However, the majority of people enjoy an evening buying stuff from the small stalls outside the market, at throwaway prices.

As we approached the gate, I stopped near a pavement shop selling colourful embroidered salwar suits. Just when my daughter tried to click a photo, the owner, a young man of thirty, came and stood near me saying, "Maji ke saath mera bhi photo nikalo" (Please click my photo along with your mother!). He touched my feet for blessings. We all smiled and for a moment he felt like one of us. 'That is Mumbai' I thought. There is a free spirit where all are equal irrespective of one's station in life.

We stepped into a shop selling sandals at fixed rates. I just sat on a stool watching people going in and out. A young lady (she appeared to be educated and modern with short hair and a trendy look) came in and picked up a black and white sandal, tried it and put it back. The shop owner (who was also the salesman) gave her three more sandals, of different patterns, colours and price. She tried all three and quietly walked away without buying - probably satisfied with the very act of wearing them for a short while at no cost! The shopkeeper, cool and calm, unmindful of his wasted labour, turned his attention to his next customer. She was a saree-clad woman, very different from the first one, and looked like someone from a lower income group. But within a couple of seconds, she made her choice, bought an expensive shoe, and walked off.

As every good salesman knows, it's all a matter of chance, and even people who step in casually may go home with a bagful of purchases. The Mumbai salesman's patience is legendary (especially in saree shops!). In the major saree markets, you will find salesmen always encouraging you to see more and more of their goods. "Dekhne ka paisa to nahin lagta behen", they say with a smile. "Costs no money to see". They will do their best to present all their goods, tempting you with one offer after another, until you find that one saree you absolutely cannot resist! Mumbai is a shopper's haven, yes, but is also the the marketing capital of India. I'm quite sure no other city in India can match the sales and service levels that Mumbai shops offer.

Finally we came to the jewellery section. Glittering stones of all hues set in traditional as well as modern designs, to match every outfit and every occasion, were displayed with the board 'SALE 50% REDUCTION'.

We were almost tempted to buy some ear-rings, but we were running out of time, so we returned home. We had spent nearly two hours in and around Gandhi Market, and the faces of smiling, hardworking sellers continued to linger in my mind.

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This article appeared in DNA Newspaper on Jun 6, 2011

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